Dragon Age: Les Enfants Terribles
by Thejoshie
Summary: My take and re-imagining on the main storyline of Dragon Age Origins


Chapter One

Elissa Cousland's teeth gripped the bandage tightly in her teeth as she tightened it around her fist, her violet eyes hiding behind closed eyelids. Her ears picked up the feint breathing of the six brave militia solders who stepped into the training ring at her request. Her afternoon exercise, designed to keep her from every growing stale. She has been couped up with garrison duty for far too long and she really felt like hitting something.

She opened her eyes, finishing her fist wrapping. Her sword, Starfang, was strapped behind her back, under her Cousland shield. The shield was her only protection, as she was only wearing her tunic and cotton pants which were tucked in her boots. Despite their presence she had no intention of ever using them. She merely wanted to get use to the weight.

Her eyes flowed over the six men; two were cowering just opposite of her behind the others, who were whispering to each other. They had on leather armor with their standard weapons, standing casually amongst each other, probably talking strategy. They were helmetless, however, which surprised her. Someon really should tell them what happened yesterday to the last six men.

"Well?" She asked as she turned completely towards them, a smirk tugging her thick lips. "Are you going to stare, or fight?"

They continued to talk. Mistake number one, which was followed completely by mistakes two and three. One and only one, advanced on her. Unarmed. As planned she purposely left Starfang sheathed, but now an idiot (however gentlemanly he thought he was being), was giving her the same courtesy, no doubt judging her by her overweight appearance as being easy prey. Only rookies would be so bold and/or stupid. Time for a wake up call.

He charged her and Elissa swayed away from his out stretched arms, slamming a knee to his ribs to take advantage of his forward momentum. The shock of the blow to his midsection was obvious by his hesitation. Someone obviously forgot to tell the man that her 'fat' was really muscle. She didn't give him time to learn or adjust, as she grabbed his hair and roughly pulled him back while sweeping his legs out from under him, slamming him on his back, before stomping his stomach. The next assaulter rushed her head on as well, and he made the same mistake of not drawing a weapon. She downed him by ducking his punch and slamming an open palm strike to his chin. He was dropped in short order.

Her back to the remaining men, who were no doubt awestruck by her display of strength and precision, she turned her head halfway towards them, her blue eyes giving them a side way glance. "...who else is stupid?"

She got her answer by the sound of scraping metal. It made her smile. She turned around to face her body towards them. "Good. Don't disappoint me."

Her first real encounter was a long sword wielder, its handler keeping her off him by thrusting it at her. He didn't vary the thrusts, however, allowing her to time his thrusts, sidestepping one and slamming a forearm past his open defense and to his face, before grabbing him by the collar of his armor and chucking him into his friend who was trying to flank her. She flipped over the two bodies on the ground (nothing short of amazing the onlookers who still confused her fat for muscle) to avoid the rear attack from the final two. She landed on her back, the shield took the blunt of the force as she predicted, and rolled to her feet. in the midst of the tumble, she saw the faces of the final two and they were serious. Play time was over and she seriously considered to at least unclipping her shield for defense. She chose not to and held out her arm, taunting the two men with a backwards gesture of her fingers.

They charged her and the joint attack was respectably tactical... yet one of them chose to leap over the pile of bodies in front of him while holding his sword up in the air. He was met by a side kick to his gut that caused him to drop his sword and nearly his shield. Instead she spun behind him, putting the stunned man in between her and the final attacker, shoving him towards him. When he leapt to the side, She came up beside him, sending a reverse elbow onto the back of his head. He dropped straight away and for a second, she was afraid that the strike was way more final then she wanted it to be. That fear was stifled when he rolled on his back.

Six to one odds. She had no idea she was so charged up that she would breeze through her normal routine without a scratch. Unarmed even.

"...not bad, or was it just luck?"

The gravelly voice cutted into her thoughts and Elissa swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Gilmore. Her teacher and superior in the Militia. She turned towards Gilmore and bowed in his direction. "Sir Gilmore."

Gilmore, dressed in even more casual clothing then her, didn't return her greeting, nor did he have to. Despite the fact that Elissa was of royal blood, Gilmore was over her due to military protocol. The price of enlisting. She blinked when he stepped over the gate, and blinked twice when he held out his hand for a sword. "Let's see you try that with an opponent like me."

One of the soldiers on the ground (the first one who was knocked down) slowly dragged himself up, giving his short sword to Gilmore. Just a short sword? No shield? No armor? "Sir Gilmore, are you sure...?"

"You speak to me as if I'm a novice. So sure that you'll hurt me then?"

That statement was spoken with venom, and the men on the ground around him dragged themselves out of his way with haste. Elissa, who unsheathed Starfang without a thought, began to regret that statement. She said it with real concern, but it came out with condescension. If Gilmore wasn't pissed before, he was now.

And at that moment... he charged her.

**Five minutes ago...**

When Marjolaine sold her soul, she knew that things would get dark before the light came. But despite that, as she looked over at the distant castle Highever, one thought crossed her head. "In Orlais, it would be a national crime to waste such beauty."

The person she was speaking to stood silent at the very edge of the cliff with fearless balance. No one has ever seen beyond the red cloak and hood. No one knew if the person was a man or woman, if it was a human or elf, it could even be a fricken darkspawn for all she knew. "That castle has stood since the very beginning of the first Orlesian-Fereldon war, it's architecture all but extinct in this sorry country. Must we..."

"It must be purified." The cloaked figure said elegantly, answering the unasked question with the same honeyed steel voice that stirred her and shivered her at the same time. "Many will weep over this day, but my plan can only begin with Highever's enslavement."

Marjolaine tightened her traveling cloak around her shoulders and walked up besides her... what exactly? The name was false, the appearance was deceiving, and she seriously doubted that the attraction she felt towards the shadow (it was the closest metaphor she could describe it as) was real. "You've been looking through that spy glass since dawn."

"Teryn Cousland's forces are mobilizing... yet I don't see the militia..." Pause. "No sign of Arl Howe's men either."

"He'll be here. Intelligence on the matter has placed him and Bryce as very close friends..." Marjolaine ignored the stare she received. "I could've been down there, gathered that information, and be back by now."

"You are not here for that purpose."

Marjolaine's eyes narrowed into slits. "...I doubt I'm here to breathe your air?"

Its gloved hands lowered the spy glass, pressing one end into a palm so that it slid into itself. Then the shadow paused, as if measuring its next words. Marjolaine could've sworn the air around her grew chilly. "Marjolaine... you have been my one of my greatest asset, second only to one other. You Bardic order have infiltrated nearly every facet of the Orlesian and Forelden corrupt feudal government."

The cold air began to focus around her neck and all too quickly she felt a crushing grip around her throat. "This is why it pains me to hear that you made a mistake. A mistake that over shadows offenses that I've killed men for."

Marjolaine's eyes closed and instinctively she lowered her breathing, slowing her heart and allowing her nose to take quick, elegant breaths. This would buy her seconds, which normally was enough to dislocate an elbow, or fingers or a knee... but she was gripped by dark magic, its sinister tendrils immune from any force blunt trauma. And the shadow, showing the quick thinking guile that won her over, took a few steps away, just out of reach of any attack Marjolaine could think of. She was unable to speak, and even if she could, she would've held her tongue. To talk would be a waste of air.

"She escaped." The shadow turned to look at her. "...I told you to kill, not imprison her."

She felt the tendril of cold loosened, and Marjolaine coughed instinctively. It was still there, menacing slithering around her neck, and if her words were ill chosen, it could crush her juggler in an instant. "...I had no choice! If I had killed her outright, then the Orlesian government would've continued the investigation..."

"A minor inconvenience." Two dark, animalistic eyes looked down upon her. And several miles away, she could feel several more pairs look in her direction. "Your inability to see the bigger picture could cost us everything. Very uncharacteristic."

The tendrils disappeared and Marjolaine fell to the ground gasping.

"She's somewhere in Fereldon. Find her... or her fate will be yours."

Something caught the shadow's eye and it turned towards the castle again, spyglass in hand. "Ah... the signal. The attack begins. Tonight."

Marjolaine stood back up, her hand to her throat. Her eyes turned toward the castle and squinted, barely catching the glint from one of its towers. It was constantly blinking one. Sometimes it was held longer than other times... a signal? A code? "...who?"

"An insider." The shadow turned abruptly from the cliff. "...still, it's disturbing, the information sent to me. We may have to make a detour of plans..."

Marjolaine watched as he made a gesture and then she felt several furry things brush past her legs. She didn't need to look down to know what they were and immediately rushed to the shadow's side, deeply disturbed for more reasons than one. The main one being that she had insiders as well, and her insiders said nothing of an independent agent in the castle. "Who?"

The repeated question, despite its increased emphasis, garnered no response as the shadow went back to the camp.

"It's Arl Howe isn't it?" Marjolaine asked.

The Shadow shrugged. "Rendon Howe is 'your' insider, not mines. Don't you have a job to do?"

Marjolaine felt the slightest brush on her neck. It was enough provocation to cease her questioning. "I will look into it. If she is indeed on the run... then finding her will be, difficult."

"Your burden for not killing her." It stopped and turned toward her. "I warned you to detach yourself of all emotions."

It was a cold reply, but a colder truth. "...I will not make the same mistake again."

Marjolaine lifted her hood and turned to leave. After a few steps, she stopped walking. "...so you're really going to do it. You're going to kill them."

"Yes."

"All of them?" Marjolaine hesitated before asking, "...even Elissa?"

No answer. This caused Marjolaine to turn, finding nothing. No campsite. No tent. The grass where the fire was set was spotless, as if no fire took place.

Marjolaine knew how cold the shadow was... but to stoop to 'that' level was quite enough to give Marjolaine pause... not that she would dare question it. She nearly died for one mistake and she doubted that a second will be tolerated.

Elissa's eyes began to focus, yet despite the clarity of vision, she still felt heavy headed, her arms and legs feeling like lead. If it wasn't for the fact that she nearly lost her balance, she would have sworn she was on the ground. Wasn't she on the ground?

"M'lady?"

The voice sounded ethereal. She didn't know where it came from. Only one other person was here... a child. No hair... no clothes period, standing with his back to her.

_"...I remember..."_

Elissa was relieved when her mouth managed to release those words. As if saying them caused some of the heaviness to be relieved. "...I've seen you before..."

_"...les enfants terrbles..."_ The child said. _"...we are the reminder of man's hubris... please... stand with me..."_

_"I don't understand..."_

_"Stand with me... or be cleansed..."_

The child began to grow. Two scaly wings ripped through the flesh covering his back... a sharp, spiky tail drilled its way through his lower back, sections of flesh was shedded like a snake, and in a sickening display of blood and gore, the body was torn in all direction. In the place of the tiny child was a dragon that could easily over shadow half of Castle Cousland....

_"Stand with me..."_ the voice grew shriller, and seemed to go directly to her head... _"Or be cleansed..."_

The Dragon snapped its head back and flipped it forward. Out of its mouth came a form of fire she has never seen. It looked like fire. Flickered like fire. But it was black. And when it enveloped her body, it felt like ice...

She let out a silent, stifled scream as she sat up from the dirt patch, nearly headbutting the medic standing over her. Breathing heavily, her senses came back to her and her eyes took in the scenery. The training ground. Castle Cousland. Home. A dream?

"...tsk... If I was a Darkspawn, your head would've been loped off. Be fortunate I turned the killing blow into a knockout blow..."

...Sir Gilmore. Now it was coming back. The throbbing pain coming from the bruise she felt forming on her scalp told a nice tale that brought with it a moral: Next time, duck!

She stood up, dusting herself off, she managed to catch the glances of the remaining militia forces just as they sharply turned away, pretending not to watch. Elissa knew better. Who wouldn't watch two of the best sword fighters in Highever go at it? She picked up Starfang, its extra weight caused it to dig itself blade first into the patch of dirt it landed in when it flew from her hand. She then turned and bowed. "Thank you for the duel, Captai..."

"Save it." Gilmore handed the sword he used back to its owner and turned sharply. "You wasted my time today, Elissa. Your head is in the clouds."

He was right, of course. He usually was. His mind, always analyzing, forever calculating, stripped her down to numbers and statistics. He knew what she thought before she thought it. "...today, my father is mobilizing the Highever Forces. He's answering King Cailen's summons..."

It was the reason why she chose to fight six men at once. Her mind would go crazy with anticipation if she did nothing.

"And you want to go as well. As I said, your head was in the clouds." He shrugged. "Don't hold your breath."

"Wha..." Elissa eyes widened. "But I... if it was because of the duel..."

"Just give up, Elissa." Gilmore turned to storm past the open gate around the dueling ring and towards the castle itself. "...save yourself the heartache."

And he was gone, leaving Elissa speechless.

"What was that about?"

Elissa turned and saw her older brother, Fergus, staring at her with that lopsided grin of his. It caused some of her uncertainty, her anxiety, to melt away. "I made an ass of myself."

"So I've heard.'A nasty blow to the head' was what Owen told me." He laughed. "The boy was so hyper that he had half the castle think your head was loped off and sent flying to Orlaise. It took all of my strength to keep my wife from telling your mother."

Elissa grimaced. Her mother was the last person she wanted involved in her affairs in the militia. "...I owe you, then."

"You always owe me." He sighed. "You may be strong, dear sister, but you need to stop daydreaming."

"I can't help it..." She was beaming now as Fergus ruffled her hair (avoiding the bruise, thankfully), "...Fergus, this is it. This is what I trained for. I missed the Orlesian war due to my age, but now... there is no reason why I'll be held back."

"Fighting side by side with you and dad will be a thrill indeed. The darkspawn won't know what hit them!" He turned towards the castle where Gilmore left towards. "...and you shouldn't worry about Gilmore. He's been in a bad mood all day. You just caught him at the wrong time, is all."

"I hope so..." Elissa looked down. "...I just can't shake the feeling that I... let him down somehow."

"You are the best with a sword amongst all the men and women here." Fergus turned to look back at her. "You're strong as an ox. Two of them in fact. Many feel that you were touched by the Maker Himself."

"I merely trained."

"So do I, and I still feel sore just seeing how much you can carry and lift. I can barely carry your sword, much less your Armor. How dad even had that monstrosity made..." Fergus smacked his forehead. "I almost forgot! We have new arrivals. Lady Landra his arrived while you and Gilmore were dueling, and just moments ago, Arl Howe has entered the main hall."

"Howe?"

Landra?

"Yes. Father wants to see you. But you definitely should change first. I'll let him know."

Elissa nodded and skipped off, barely remembering to untie her Marbari hound from a nearby tree. "Come on, Porkchop."

The dog barked an affirmative and followed her. Full of energy and spirit, Elissa sprinted through the castle to her room, changing into her formal dress and out of her sweaty tunic. She fixed her hair, tying it into a long pony tail that was undone, thanks to Sir Gilmore. She didn't know where she wanted to go first... Landra, or her father. Landra, no doubt, brought her usual entourage. But after some deliberating, she decided that they could wait. She couldn't take it; she had to hear it from her own father: Prepare to go with the Army. She was certain that nothing could kill the happiness welling in her heart...

...she couldn't be more wrong. "...excuse me father?"

"You're needed here. Your mother will be travelling with Lady Landra for a few days, and Sir Gilmore will have his hands full keeping the peace with her, your brother, and myself gone." Her father nodded. "You know what they say about mice while the cat is away, yes?"

Since she was born, Elissa never cried once. Never cried ever. But if she ever did, this would've been the first. Sir Gilmore's strike may as well been a killing blow, as it would've hurt less than this. And the worst part?

He was absolutely right.

She swallowed her pride and nodded. Well, if she was going to get stabbed, she refused to let anyone see her bleed. "I'll do my best, father."

That answer obviously stunned her father, who hugged her seconds later. He must've sensed her heart break. Great, now she felt her eyes water. No tears.

"I know you were looking forward to leaving with us. Fergus couldn't shut up about it." He said in her ear, "...we...I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She smiled... only to frown and shove away when she caught the slip. "We?"

"...you have to understand that..."

"She put you up to this, didn't she!"

He sighed. "...both I and Fergus are going to battle. She'd kill me if you went."

"...and I swear, I'm going to kill her..."

"Might I remind you that we have company, pup?"

Elissa was taken aback when she was brought back down to earth. Arl Rendon Howe took a step back when she looked at him. Her face must've been as hard as granite. She closed her eyes, counted to five and re-opened them. "My apologies."

"Pay me no mind, young one. I see you got some of your parents in you." He chuckled. "I would have mentioned that Thomas asked about you, but I doubt he would be able to handle a wild mare like you..."

She shrugged. She wasn't much for small talk now, and a chilly tension fell on all three of them. Then her father spoke up. "Ah yes! There is someone here you might want to meet, pup."

She looked up at her father. "We had 'another' visitor?"

"That we have. An unannounced one."

"And... who might that be?"

Elissa turned towards Howe and narrowed her eyes. "You sound nervous..."

"Nervous? No, it's just that certain protocol is to be held. I'm at a disadvantage here..."

The 'visitor' entered the main hall and Elissa jaw dropped. "...Duncan?"

"You know him?" Her father quirked an eyebrow.

"I read about him. Gilmore had me read up on the Wardens as part of my initiation into the Militia."

The Grey Wardens. An elite group of warriors who risk any and everything to eradicate the darkspawn. By any means necessary. It wasn't often that a Grey Warden would be anywhere else other then where darkspawn was seen. "...why is he here?"

"Duncan is recruiting. Rumor has it..."

Duncan stepped up at this point, his eyes on her. It was unsettling, and something inside her stirred, bubbling almost. The hair behind her neck rose. And for the briefest of moments, she was back in the forests with the child... the blood, the tearing of skin... the fire of ice...

"...he has his eyes on Sir Gilmore amongst others. Another reason why you need to stay here... pup?"

"...sorry." Elissa shook her head. "Took a good knock on the head from Gilmore earlier."

"I saw that." Duncan said. "That was quite an ending."

Her eyes looked down. He saw that! "What... me getting my butt kicked?"

"No... You, a woman even, showing such prowess with a blade... not to mention getting back up mere minutes after such a blow. I doubted that Gilmore held back." Duncan turned to her father. "If I may be so bold... I think your daughter could also be a good candidate."

If her mother heard that, she would have kittens. "I... you... what!"

"Honorable though it might be... I can't allow that..." Her father stood between her and Duncan. "If the worst happens to me and Fergus, she and her mother would be needed more than ever..."

She heard him hesitate before adding, "...unless you plan to conscript her."

Duncan shook his head. "Even when Fereldon turned their backs on the Wardens, The Cousland line has been open supporters. I wouldn't dare strain it."

She heard her father sigh. "Pup, I need you to let Fergus know that need him to lead our troops ahead. I'm going to wait with Howe for his troops to arrive."

Elissa nodded and left without a word, still stunned. So much has happened in the time span of several minutes. Duncan, her being left at the castle. Her mother. The... what was it, a dream? A vision?

"Ah... daughter."

She was walking with her head to the clouds as she walked right up on her mother. Absolute evil was about to erupt, but she held her tongue when she saw her mother's company. Landra. Her son Deiran and her lady in waiting Iona. Elissa heart fluttered and she was sickened by it. She didn't want to feel good now. She was angry! She wanted her mother to know that she just took her dreams and defecated on it.

"Lisa, you remember Lady Landra and her son?"

Elissa turned towards Landra and smiled. How couldn't she. The face brought with it memories that couldn't help but bring a smile. A smile that was followed by laughter.

"Oh maker, she remembers." Landra said, placing her face in her palm.

"We had to practically pour you into the carriage after the spring saloon." Deiran said, causing Elissa to laugh even harder.

"What was it, Deiran?" Elissa coughed so she could mimic Landra's voice, "...'no one will be able to please you in bed better then Thomas! His girth has doubled in the past year!'"

Landra groaned while Elissa and Deiran both blew up in laughter. Deiran wasn't embarrassed by the outburst that night, as Elissa heard that the many a noble woman began pounding on his door ever since.

"And my daughter's lack of tact is made known again. I swear, it'll land her a post in Orlais..."

"Not if you had your way mother."

Instant mood killer and everyone felt it.

"Ahem. I think I'll rest before supper tonight." Landra nodded. "Good evening for now."

"I think Elissa, Iona and I will retire to the study. If you'll excuse us..."

The entire time, Elissa locked eyes with her mother. Sadness was held on her face but Elissa just couldn't muster sympathy. She was pulled away by Thomas, Iona in tow...

"It's just so frustrating!" Elissa said, closing a book and chucking it across the room. Not knowing her own strength, she watched in horror as it flew across the room and hit the book shelf on the other side of the open door, causing more than a few books to spill on the floor. The second that happened, Elissa, Dieran and Iona ducked into the private study. They successfully missed Albus eyes, made noticeable by the way he was yelling at a few innocent elves at the mess.

Deiran sat next to Elissa. "...I'm sure your mother has her reasons."

"You don't know her, Deiran. She's... secretive. And manipulative. She does her best in undermining my training... she always convince my father to keep me from the frontlines in every engagement..."

"But she does change her mind. Look at you and me. She practically gave up on arranging us."

"If she knew 'why', she'll practically tie us together."

Deiran nodded. "And on that note... I need to see Albus about borrowing a few books."

He left, locking the door behind him. Over the years, Elissa grew to like the man. She didn't necessarily hate him. She was just smitten with someone 'else'.

"My lady..."

Elissa practically tackled Iona. Just a single glance at her reminded Elissa just how long it's been.

"My lady! This isn't appropria..."

Iona's protest was smothered by Elissa mouth, her tongue slithering into Iona, plundering her mouth for several minutes. Iona struggled, but soon ceased and gave in. It was tough to see from Iona's sweet exterior, but she was not as innocent as she looked. The fact that her thigh grinded it's way between Elissa's own muscular ones made that clear. Elissa moaned, releasing Iona's mouth.

"As I said, m'lady, not appropriate."

"What are you going to do? Torture me?"

"...I see. I didn't give you enough 'lashes' last time."

Elissa shuddered. "You know me.... Obstinate... stubborn..."

"Indeed." Iona smacked Elissa's hands away from her body. "Up. I'm serious. I can't go back to Landra smelling like sweat like last time we were locked in the chantry. She'll definitely suspect something."

Elissa sighed, giving Iona a chaste kiss before sitting up, releasing her and readjusting her dress. "It gets harder, Iona... I..."

"Tonight. I'll come to your door after everyone is asleep. Will that be agreeable, m'lady?"

"Very agreeable." Elissa smiled. "And how many times must I tell you? When we are alone, call me Elissa."

Iona stood up and curtsied. "I look forward to tonight." And she slowly walked out of the private study.

Elissa had a very hard time not to keep her head out of the clouds now. This was made painfully obvious when she fell, face first onto the ground when she left the study a few minutes after Iona. She realized, when she felt her ankle throb, that she was tripped.

"You do realize, that Teryna Eleanor will *not* be pleased."

Gilmore. Oh crap.

"Get up."

Elissa did.

"Walk with me."

It was a silent walk, where the guards cautiously stayed out of their way. Gilmore's mood must've been plastered on his face, as not even a salute was sent his way. Up until they were again at the sparing ring did he keep a brisk pace before stopping.

"...a rematch?" Elissa asked. "I'm not dressed for a..."

"No, it's not a rematch, despite whether you're ready or not." Gilmore back was to her. "What are the three tenants to preparing your mind for battle?"

Elissa could quote these in her sleep. "One, know your enemy. Two, know your enemy's weakness, and three, erase your weakness."

"Why do you think you were denied travel to Ostegar?"

That question came from Elissa's blindside, and her hesitation showed it. Once again she felt uncertain, her skin rippling with nervous twitches. "Becau..."

"The quick answer is usually the wrong one. Instinct can be mislead just like your senses. You have a brain. Use it."

Her mother. That was her initial answer... but if that was unacceptable... "...I... don't know then."

"That, or you are too stubborn to see the truth, proving conclusively that you utterly fail at the three tenants." Gilmore turned towards her. "I can tell you right now what your problem is."

"Sir?"

"You don't respect what you have. If you did, you would drop your girlish dreams and grow up. Stop wasting my time."

"But..."

"But... what?" Gilmore walked to her, staring down at her. "But I'm wrong? But you do have a reason, a REAL reason, to go to a battle that warrants the threat of ending the Cousland line? What, Elissa?"

Elissa's stomach twisted itself. "...I'm not good at anything else..."

Gilmore crossed his arms. "So, you still see yourself as the fatass marbori hound that was teased mercilessly before you broke Thomas Howe's jaw? You have yet to get over your utterly abysmal self-esteem? Pathetic. If you fight for your self-image, you'll fight recklessly, foolishly, and you'll be killed."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not answering that question, nor am I holding your hand anymore. If you want to be one of the boys, then grow a pair and decide for yourself what is worth fighting for." Gilmore eyes narrowed. "But I promise you this... you are way too innocent to be a soldier. You have too much to lose, way too much. And you're unwilling to let go. You're selfish and spoiled. That is what's pissing me off."

And he turned sharply, wordlessly ending that conversation. "Your mutt is causing a ruckus down in the kitchens. I'd look into that if I were you."

Ellissa eyes followed her mentor's movements till he disappeared back into the western garrison tower, where his quarters were located.

She was stabbed through the hand. Her left shoulder was dislocated. Her ankle sprained, and a variety of cuts and bruises... yet nothing stung as badly or deeply then the words of Gilmore. The fact that she was already in a dejected mood made it worse. The long, cold walk towards the kitchen was one fraught with uncertainty. But sure enough, she heard it. The barking. The crashing. The cursing. "...Porkchop..."

She went into a jog, shouldering into the heavy oaken doors and into the kitchens.

"If you don't get that mutt out of that larder, I will switch the flesh off of both you useless elves, I swear it!"

Nan. Of course, that wasn't her real name, but it was the one Elissa named her since she was young. And even then, she was the same foul mouthed woman she is now. Come to think of it, it wasn't too much of a stretch why she grew up different then the other lady's now was it?

"...You."

And Nan saw her.

"Maker damn Tyren Bryce for giving you that blight wolf..."

"He's in the larder again?" Elissa asked, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of her head. Of course he's in the larder again.

"Damnit, Of course he's in the Maker damn larder again, you dumb hallashit." Nug bunnies, she must really be pissed. "I lock it tighter then a nug's ass and yet he almost always manages find his way in there! And this time, he's been in there since mid afternoon keeping me from preparing for the night's supper! I have a barracks full of hungry men, and your mother is asking me to prepare a roast pig for our guests tonight! Where in the fade have you been!"

"...I..."

"Save it!" Nan glared at her. "I want it out. Now."

Elissa was going to correct Nan to the fact that Porkchop was a 'she', not it. But decided against it. She just walked into the Larder, the heavy door closing behind her. Later, she would realize just why it was odd to feel a draft in there, and the fact that certain smells didn't belong. But at that particular moment, she saw Porkchop sniffing on the ground, meats and vegetables, freshly chewed, all over the ground. "PORKCHOP!"

The Marbari hound stiffened, recognizing her voice and balling up her body, lowering its head and letting out a whine. She knew she was in trouble.

"Bad dog! I already have enough on my mind and now... do you know what my mother will do when she find out about this?"

Porkchop bounded up, brushing against Elissa's legs and running in circles. "No, don't you try to charm me out of this. You really had done it..."

Then she felt it... a cold chill felt on the back of her neck, causing the hair there to stiffen. She could never explain it... but she felt this before. The first time she met Iona. The first time she saw... 'It'."

Porkchop lunged at her, and only AFTER the fresh blood squeezed out of the rat snatched out of mid-air in the hound's jaws hit her face, did her reflexes kick in.

Elissa fell back onto her butt and immediately pulled her dagger out of her boot just as another Rat the size of last year's feastday turkey leapt at her. She leaned back, waited for the rat to land beside her, before she stabbed the rat through its body. She didn't have time to verify its death as another attacked her. And another.

It was crazy. Rats came from everywhere, and if it wasn't for her instincts, she may have been overwhelmed. And even then, Porkchop more than evened up the odds, taking out her own share of rats.

Elissa needed this. The action emptied her head, and even when the battle over, her evening gown shredded and her arms tricking with scrapes and scratches, she felt inner peace. She opened her eyes, and saw Porkchop obediently sitting, waiting an order.

"You were looking for the rats, weren't you?"

Porkchop barked an affirmative and Elissa smiled.

"Good boy."

She walked out the larder and ignored Nan, who saw the wounds and gaped at her. She walked to one of the servant elves who also looked at her clothes and wounds in astonishment. "You, go into the larder and find out how rats the size of my head managed to sneak into the Larder."

"r-Rats? The big ones!"

Elissa blinked. "This isn't the first time?"

She looked at Porkchop and a revelation dawned on her. "How many times has this happened?"

Of course, it was impossible to get an exact answer, but the way Porkchop moved told her enough. "...Nan has already said that she locked the Larder up tighter then a nug's... 'bottom'... how did they get in?"

The rat, the lone survivor, scurried down the passage, out into the courtyard, through the portcullis and between the gap between the drawbridge and stone archway. It swam the moat then scurried across the field and into the forest towards the shadow that was waiting for it.

The shadow crouched to it, extending its finger to it, and the rat lifted its forepaws to the finger, squeaking its report.

"...so I see. Good job. Join your brothers in the Kocari wilds. I'll take over from here..."


End file.
